Sorrow

I need to turn off the TV and block news sites because I’m compelled to find out more. The State Police yesterday said they had evidence to complete the picture, to explain why, and I keep tuning in to see if they’ve released it, though I know they won’t, not so soon. I think about those teachers who probably went to work that morning like I did, anticipating Christmas break. I think about the parents who I hope kissed their kids good-bye as they got out of the car, thinking they’d be safe. I think about the principal who went TOWARD the gunman, as I know my principal would do. I think about the siblings who heard the screams and didn’t know, then waited and waited and waited at the firehouse.

I picture everything as if it was at my school, and have spent the weekend playing out scenarios in my head. If we’re in the cafeteria, what do I do? The playground? The gym?

I was glad to be at work on Friday after I heard the news, to hear the sounds of happy kids, and to get hugs from the children who didn’t know, who hadn’t heard. I wonder what Monday will be like.

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